


Happiness is a Butterfly

by charlottepriestly



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Madam Spellman - Freeform, angst with a happy ending i promise, kind of a song fic? not really idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 19:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20626643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlottepriestly/pseuds/charlottepriestly
Summary: Lilith is gone.She left with no explanation, no promise to ever return, and Zelda must learn how to live without her. After all, happiness is always elusive, and Lilith won't be coming back, will she?





	Happiness is a Butterfly

**Author's Note:**

> A.N: So I've been wanting to write a Madam Spellman story for some time now, and listening to Lana del Rey's new album inspired me to write this little one-shot. It's my first fic for this fandom, but I hope you enjoy! I looove feedback, so please let me know what you think :) 
> 
> Also thank you to my sweet Jemma for always being supportive and willing to proof read my work xx

_Do you want me or do you not?_

_I heard one thing, now I'm hearing another_

_Dropped a pin to my parking spot_

_The bar was hot, it's 2 AM, it feels like summer._

Zelda Spellman did not frequent the local bars. In fact, the other patrons did a double take when she strode in, but she didn't spare them a glance. She made a beeline for the bar, and demanded whiskey without formalities or pleasantries. . The moment the drink was placed before her, she gulped it down in one go, then slammed the glass against the bar top and waved for another. She took more time with the second one, but she still swallowed in a desperate attempt to numb her mind.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt like this. Honestly, it was all rather ridiculous. If she had more of her wits about her, she definitely would not have come all the way into this Satan forsaken town just to visit this lowly, dusty bar. Desperate times brought desperate measures, she supposed. Didn't people in novels and films get drunk in bars by themselves when they were nursing a broken heart?

Zelda clenched her jaw, and took a big gulp of the fiery liquid. How _dare_ she anyways? Who did she think she was, toying with Zelda in such a way? Sure, she was the first witch, and the first woman, and the new Queen of Hell, and the most infuriating, horrid, confusing, powerful, attractive person Zelda had ever met. But that gave her no right to make Zelda feel the way she'd been feeling for the past month.

One month. Four weeks since _that_ night. After nearly three months of blissful ecstasy and divine pleasures of the flesh, Lilith had turned to her in bed and declared she would not be coming back. Eleven weeks of whispered praises and soft caresses and confessions in the dark. Seventy seven days filled with a soothing comfort and unexpected joy Zelda had never imagined she could feel after everything she'd been through.

And it had all been stolen from her grasp in two vacant phrases (_"This can not go on, Zelda. I will not come back, I hope you can forgive me"_), followed by the silhouette Zelda had come to adore walking away from her, never glancing back.

She had left like it was nothing, like something inside Zelda wasn't breaking as she watched Lilith walk away for the last time, as if the demoness had not felt even the slight remorse or attachment or affection for Zelda at all.

It pained her just to admit it, but Zelda had not been hurt like this in a very, very long time. Not when she'd learned she would never have children of her own, or when her brother died in a plane crash, or even when Faustus had put her under that wicked spell and she lost all form of freedom she'd ever known. She had been able to recover from all of those things. Perhaps it was because she'd been able to find closure from them, of maybe because she had still felt her strength and resilience thrumming through her like a steady, comforting pulse.

But this was different.

There was no closure. There was no confidence, or strength, or motivation left in her. She felt empty, and tired, and drained, because Satan help her, she had given everything and more. She had opened up to Lilith. She had trusted her, cared for her, and hoped more than ever that she was cared for in return.

But she had been mistaken. She had let her guard down, and now she was suffering the consequences.

So, she threw herself into work every day for hours on end. She took all responsibilities regarding the mortuary upon herself, except Ambrose's morgue duties, because she would not take those on no matter what. That, combined with the immeasurable burden that rested upon her shoulders as the new High Priestess of the coven's remaining witches, practically sucked all time and energy from her. She was in charge of many more than just the Spellmans now, and she constantly fought against her own struggles in order to rebuild the morale and the beliefs of the coven. She was drained. She'd smoked more in the past four weeks than in the past year, her shoulders and neck ached from the high stress and tension, and a dull throb had started behind her brow, a phantom pain of the head-splitting migraines she used to have.

But the worst time came after dusk. Her bed was painfully empty, the nights unbearably silent, her terrible thoughts far too loud and all-consuming. She barely slept, barely went to her bedroom at all. Instead, she walked under the moonlight, or drank herself into oblivion, or prowled around the enormous, silent house frantically searching for ways to keep busy. Last week, Sabrina had walked into the kitchen at 3 in the morning, still half asleep, only to find her aunt on her knees, furiously scrubbing the floor like a woman possessed. Sabrina had been wise and had not said a word. She'd pretended not to notice Zelda's bloodshot eyes and dried tear streaks on her cheeks, and silently returned to bed.

Oh, Zelda knew her family worried. She could barely manage making her usual cutting comments during meals, could hardly even stomach food most days, and she could feel three pairs of eyes glancing at her as if they were concerned she would shatter to a thousand pieces where she sat. Ambrose had taken to the task of silently bringing her tea whenever Zelda became too caught up in her thoughts and paced her fury, desolation, and anxiety into a precise circle on the floorboards of her study. Sabrina was careful to check in on her as often as she could every day, never asking questions but always talking animatedly and updating her aunt on her busy life, keeping Zelda's mind distracted for a little while. Hilda had offered to move back into her old bedroom, in case Zelda wanted the company, but Zelda had snapped at her - although it was rather hazy, and she couldn't remember exactly what she'd said, but it was undoubtedly snide and cruel, because Hilda had made no such offers since then.

The bar tender came to stand right in front of Zelda, snapping her out of her daze. She blinked, and blearily looked up. 

"We're closing soon, so you might wanna finish that," he said, waving at her sixth - or was it seventh? - glass of whiskey.

Zelda nodded, and threw back the drink without so much as a grimace when it burned down her throat. She pushed away from the bar, and stood from the high stool. She groaned when a rush of dizziness hit her, and she stumbled, grasping the bar for support.

"You alright there, Ma’am? Do you need any - "

"I'm _fine_," she snapped, and ignored the slight slur in her voice.

She grabbed her purse, and dragged herself across the bar. There were barely any patrons left, praise Satan, because Zelda was sure she was putting on quite the show. She stumbled out the door into the brisk summer air, and she took a deep breath to settle herself. Despite the late hour, the night was warm, and the sky was clear enough that stars scattered the black canvas above, twinkling down at Zelda as if taunting her with their brightness. It would have been far better if it were winter, so the weather would be cold and desolate enough to match Zelda's mood. Or perhaps autumn, so Zelda could walk home in the pouring rain like in one of those angst-laden romance films Sabrina liked to watch.

Oh, Satan in hell, she was losing her mind.

The walk to the mortuary was long and challenging. Zelda stumbled along the wood's path, trying not to completely lose her balance or trip over the many rocks and branches that rose from the ground menacingly. The moon shone brightly between the tree branches above, following Zelda like a spectrum of a memory she was trying to forget. Her haunting thoughts were drowned by the sounds of the night around her, and she did her best to keep her mind black as she listened to the animals and insects that sang their symphony into the dark.

By the time she ascended the steps to the porch of her home, she was struggling to catch her breath, or even walk in a straight line. As she looked up at the building looming before her, dread curled in the pit of her stomach, and she stepped away from the entrance. She moved to her favourite corner, leaning against the railing and looking out over the open field and the great trees at the edge of the forest. She took a deep, gasping breath as the quiet engulfed her.

The phantom feeling of arms wrapping around her middle made her throat close up, and she could almost smell the musky, entrancing scent that she had grown to love. She closed her eyes, willing herself to compose herself, but Lilith's face swam before her closed eyelids. Zelda gasped, and forced her eyes open, feeling them sting with unshed tears. The memory of Lilith - her devotion, her departure, her absence - brought a heavy weight bearing down upon Zelda's chest, and she made no move to wipe the stray tears silently running down her cheeks.

Was she really so unworthy? Was she cursed to live her life like this, to be used for other people's sexual pleasures, to be depraved of a healthy, steady love that could sustain her despite her insecurities and her flaws? Would she really never be good enough?

A sob tore through her chest, and she slapped her hand across her mouth to stifle it. Her shoulders shook with her cries, her vision blurred with the onslaught of more violent tears, and the hunched over, leaning on the railing for support. She didn't know how much longer she could do this for. She didn't know how much more of this feeling she could take. Maybe they were right. Maybe Lilith really was as cruel as people said. Or maybe Faustus had been right.

Maybe Zelda wasn't worthy. Maybe she just wasn't enough.

_Happiness is a butterfly_

_I try to catch it every night_

_It escapes from my hands into moonlight._

Two months after Lilith had left, Zelda was beginning to feel more like herself. She was still drained, and scrambling to keep herself busy, and dreading being left alone with her thoughts. But at least her appetite had returned, and things with the Coven were better. Even though sleep was still rare and difficult to find (Zelda supposed she had Lilith to blame for that, because Zelda had never slept more peacefully than in the her arms), she could manage the lack of rest better now that she'd adjusted to running on less than four hours' sleep.

And if sometimes a memory of Lilith fleetingly passed her mind, she swallowed through the tightness in her throat and squashed the thought away. And if there were times when she would fall apart, she'd learnt to only allow herself to cry in the shower, so she could pretend that her tears were just part of the scalding water running down her face. She'd gotten quite good at ignoring the heavy weight that still pressed against her breast, and whenever she saw something that reminded her of the Queen of Hell, she was an expert at looking the other way and pretending that the feeling of her stomach dropped was simply due to hunger.

Sabrina still sought her auntie out, even if Zelda was in one of her moods, and talked to her as if nothing was amiss, as if Zelda's life had not been used as a twisted joke for the universe's amusement. Although she would never say it, Zelda was grateful for her niece, and she was proud that she'd recovered enough to have a relatively normal conversation with her instead of sitting in silence while she listened to monologue after monologue of the teenager's life. Ambrose had stopped bringing her unsolicited cups of tea, but he had taken to asking her if she wanted to sit with him for a cuppa instead, and although she was rarely free enough with her time to accept the offer, she had enjoyed their one on one time on occasion. As for Hilda, she continued to give Zelda concerned glances, since she knew her sister better than anyone, but she was cautious about approaching Zelda regarding anything personal. Best of all, Zelda had not gone to another bar again. She'd had enough that one time, and now if she wished to get drunk she did it from the convert and safety of her study. 

That's exactly what she was doing now. After pouring herself a generous drink, she sat on her armchair in front of the fireplace, taking a sip and humming appreciatively as she finally let herself relax. It had been a long week. She deserved some time to unwind, and if the alcohol numbed her thoughts about a certain raven-haired demoness, then Zelda did not hesitate to indulge.

She had only taken two sips when the doorbell rang, and Zelda exhaled forcefully. Who could it be at this time of night? It was nearly the witching hour, for Satan's sake. Did Zelda not deserve to have a moment's peace?

There was an insistent knock, followed by another ring of the doorbell, and Zelda had to give in. She set the drink on the coffee table before her and stood up from her comfortable chair with a groan.

Hurrying into the entrance hall, Zelda did not even both to check the house's protective shields to know who was at her door. Instead, she swung the heavy door open, her mouth poised to deliver a scathing, cold remark, but the words died in her throat as soon as she saw who stood at the entrance to her home.

Zelda could not speak, could not breathe, could not even think as she stared at the woman of her torments. Lilith stood before her, her lips drawn up into a mysterious half smirk, her sharp blue eyes taking Zelda in, her posture relaxed as if this was normal, as if she was visiting like any other time she'd invited herself over, as if she hadn’t torn Zelda heart to pieces and walked all over the remains. And damn it all to hell, she looked exactly the same as she always did. Not a hair out of place, mouth sharp and red, not dark circles under her eyes, no remorse in her expression. In fact, she looked smug - almost victorious - and Zelda felt her chest caving in on itself. What the hell was she doing here? Why was she acting like nothing had happened, like she hadn't used Zelda and dropped her as if it meant absolutely nothing? Who the _fuck_ did she think she was, tearing back into Zelda's life and burning down everything Zelda had been working so hard on building in the past few moths. This could not be happening. Zelda had not gone through all those tears, all those painful thoughts, all that heartbreak for Lilith to just waltz back as if none of it had happened at all. She - she -

"What are you doing here?" Her voice sounded detached from her body, hollow and cold.

Lilith blinked, and her expression broke for a second, long enough for Zelda to see that she wasn't unaffected, that she did not feel as self-assured as she seemed.

"Hello to you too, my sweet Zelda," she said, her smooth voice running over Zelda's skin like a river of dripping velvet, and Zelda felt her insides turn unpleasantly at the familiar endearment that fell from Lilith's lips.

"Don't call me that," she snapped, and made sure her expression was as stern and unfeeling as she could manage. "And I asked you a question."

Lilith clearly understood Zelda's no-nonsense tone, because she straightened and continued without any playfulness or teasing in her tone. "I came here in the hopes that we might... talk. I have something rather urgent to discuss with you."

Zelda took a breath, and felt torn. Deep down, she told herself that she should hear Lilith out, that maybe this could be a form of closure, and that, whatever happened, at least Zelda would not live the rest of her life wondering what would have happened if she'd let Lilith into her home tonight. But her more carnal instincts, the one blaring alarm bells in Zelda's mind, told her that this was a terrible idea that could hurt her even more, and that Lilith didn't deserve a single second of Zelda's time.

But then Lilith's eyes implored her - pleaded her - and she took a step closer, enough that her perfume drifted up to surround Zelda's shoulders and neck in a warm noose, teasing her senses with the smell of _home_.

"Please."

And that word, a simple, common word, so unheard from Lilith's mouth, broke Zelda's defences. No matter what her gut told her, she couldn't deny Lilith anything. Her shoulders fell, and the breath left her lungs in a defeated exhale that made Zelda feel a century older than she actually was. 

She didn't say a word, though. She merely turned on her heel and made her way back to the study, hearing the sounds of Lilith's heels following her, and the front door closing behind them both.

_If she's a serial killer, then what's the worst_

_That can happen to a girl who's already hurt?_

_I'm already hurt._

_If she's as bad as they say, then I guess I'm cursed_

_Looking into her eyes, I think she's already hurt_

_She's already hurt._

So, it had all been for nothing.

Sitting here in the study, a place of calm and refuge, Zelda could not fool herself any longer. Everything she had been doing for the past two months, every tear she had cried, every drunken stupor, every hour working herself to the bone - it had all been a mere distraction. It had not truly helped her, really, because if she had done any sort of progress or recovery, she would not be in this state right now. It took effort just to keep her hands from trembling, and the nausea was making her paler than usual. Lilith was bound to notice her weakness. She was sitting regally in the arm chair opposite, the fire blazing in the chimney to their right, suffusing black wild hair in a halo of warmth. The shadows that fell across her face punctuated her sharp features, the curve of her eyebrows and her tall cheekbones. To make matters worse, those sharp blue eyes - and oh, how they had haunted Zelda in their absence - stared at her with flickering ambers reflected in their icy depths.

Something in Zelda's chest churned painfully, and she had to bite back a gasp at the sudden pang of agony that a new realisation brought. She was in love with Lilith. Nobody had ever brought her stripped her of her defences, brought her to her knees and tore her to pieces the way Lilith had done. Nobody had ever understood Zelda so perfectly, or brought her such comfort and joy that Zelda had felt the urge to pinch herself. No loss or abandonment had ever pierced Zelda's soul the way Lilith's had. And it was terrifying. This woman - this monster - was the most powerful deity in the world, and she held a specific power over Zelda that was both daunting and exhilarating, but right now all Zelda could feel was rage. She felt blood red fury at Lilith's audacity, a burning humiliation of her own weakness, the bitter sorrow and hollow loneliness of Lilith's absence. The emotions crashed over her like waves under a hurricane's eye, and she could hardly breathe, could hardly think straight, and her heart had started to pound sometime in the past two minutes, and her hands were definitely trembling now -

"I hope I'm not intruding," Lilith's voice suddenly cut through the thick fog of Zelda's thoughts, jerking her back into the reality of the situation at hand. "I'm sorry for dropping by like this, but I hope you'll hear me out."

Zelda was too rattled up to speak, to even utter a single word, so she clenched her jaw, and gave a firm nod. Lilith's eyes flickered with something Zelda couldn't recognise, something dark and desolate, but it was gone in a second, so it must have been a trick of the fire.

"I came to apologise, and explain," Lilith begun, and took a deep breath. Swallowing thickly, Zelda braced herself. "I never wanted to leave, Zelda. I need you to know this. I didn't have a choice. My new position as Queen of Hell is something I have always desired, but there are many who are prejudiced and opposed to the new ruling. I learnt about several groups that were planning a coup against me, dark, powerful witches and warlocks that were recruiting numbers bigger than I'm imagined. They were a minority, but powerful nonetheless. At first their threats were futile, and I did not give them much importance. But as their numbers grew and they became more threatening, I had to take action. I needed to leave, Zelda. They were not just threatening myself, but all those who supported me and helped me defeat the Dark Lord."

Zelda breathed in sharply. A feeling of dread and dawning apprehension fell over her like a heavy blanket, making it difficult to breathe as understanding crept in on her.

"Before I came to you, on that last night together, they made their biggest - and last - threat. Not only did they swear revolt and war against myself, they also claimed they would hunt down you Coven." Lilith swallowed, and leaned forward in her seat so she could be closer to Zelda, who was growing paler with each word out of Lilith's mouth. "And not just the Coven. _You,_ Zelda. You, and Sabrina, and your sister and your nephew. You were all in danger, and I would not - _could_ _not_ allow that. So I left, not wanting to make any promises to return, in case the worst came to happen. I left because I needed to fight for my crown, and my kingdom. For _you_, my sweet, my darling Zelda."

She didn't know when she'd started crying, but as she managed to take a shuddering breath, she realised her cheeks were wet. Even after everything, even after all the tears she'd already cried, even though Zelda believed she had cried herself dry, here she was crumbling in front of Lilith - _Lilith_ \- who had returned, who had not abandoned her, who had fought -

Something tore through her, starting in her stomach and slicing its way up into her chest, forcing its escape up her throat until a pitiful whimper passed her lips, and she clenched her eyes shut. She couldn't process this. It couldn't be real, Lilith could not be telling the truth, and Zelda wanted so much to believe her, but her instincts were blaring alarm bells all the way to the depths of her mind, and how could she trust Lilith? How could she believe her after all the pain, all the loneliness and hurt and darkness she had inflicted on Zelda? How could she let her guard down again, when the last time she'd done that exact same thing, she had ended with a shattered heart and a drinking problem?

Something touched her hands, clasped into tight fists her lap as they were, and she flinched. She snapped her eyes open, and the breath rushed out of her at once.

"Please, Zelda," Lilith pleaded, kneeling before her, holding Zelda's cold hands between her warm fingers, her mournful eyes gazing up at her with so much emotion that Zelda could hardly force herself to look at them. "Please, forgive me. I didn't feel like I had a choice - I was trying my best to protect my throne, and those I love, and - " 

A sharp inhale, and then the room was only filled with the crackling of the fire. Zelda stared down in disbelief and shock at the woman literally begging on her knees before her. Had Lilith just implied she loved her? Had she just said those words, the ones Zelda had been longing to hear and dying to say, but was too afraid to do so? Lilith's expression softened, and her eyes filled with such tenderness and warmth that Zelda felt the fist around her heart suffocate her.

"Oh, my darling, did you really not know?" She sighed, and spoke so quietly that Zelda could hardly hear. Lilith reached her hand up slowly, and when Zelda made no move to back away, she delicately cupped Zelda's cheek, running her thumb in soothing stroked over her cheekbones, brushing away the tears. "I have never loved anyone as much as I love you."

Zelda's body suddenly gave, and she sagged forward as if every last bit of tension and energy had suddenly been drained from her very soul. Reflexively, Lilith leaned up and held Zelda upright, keeping her close and wrapping her arm firmly around her middle while her thumb continued the soothing caress upon an ivory cheek. Zelda had longed for this so much - to have her senses overcome with Lilith, to feel her body against her, her touch upon her skin, her musky scent blissfully enveloping Zelda until she couldn't even imagine what her life had been like without her Lilith.

And yet, there was something Zelda needed to say, there was a question she needed an answer to. And although her voice trembled and sounded raw with emotion, she didn't hesitate for a second, her gaze did not falter in the slightest as she looked straight into icy blue eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Lilith blinked, and didn't answer right away. Her mouth gaped open, as if at a loss, and Zelda powered on despite her scattered thoughts and her emotional turmoil. "Why couldn't you have warned me, or explained even a little bit? Why did you have to leave like that and make me feel as if I was - as if I had meant _nothing_ to you? Why couldn't you just _tell me_ instead of abandoning me and making me feel worthless and alone, and - and - "

Lilith's body suddenly collided against hers as she pulled Zelda in for a tight embrace, threading her hand in auburn hair and burying her face in the sweetness of her neck. In her outburst, Zelda hadn't even processed Lilith's reaction to her words. Once she'd opened her mouth, she couldn't stop, and now the woman of her torment hugged her so fiercely that Zelda could hardly breathe.

But Lilith's body was trembling, and her shoulders shook, and there was a desperation in her touch that Zelda had never witnessed.

"I couldn't," Lilith rasped, her hot breath caressing the skin of Zelda's neck like the ghost of a lover. "I couldn't risk your safety by telling you. If they had found you, if they had used you for information, they would have - you could have - I couldn't do it. I would never allow you to be any sort of target. But it broke me to leave like that. I could hardly function after I left, like I was sleep-walking, but - Oh, Zelda. My darling, sweet Zelda, you are not worthless. You are worth more than anything else I have in my life. You are _everything_ \- "

Zelda could not hear anymore. She couldn't think anymore, besides the overwhelming need to have Lilith and keep her by her side. It was as if, despite the lingering pain and fear and anger, she had been sealed shut, sown back together like an open wound, like she had come home after months in an eternal hell.

She hardly even glanced at Lilith's face, didn't even stop at the sight of the woman's tears, didn't even let her react at Zelda's abrupt movement. She crushed their lips together, her hands reaching up to cup Lilith's jaw, touch her neck, thread through ebony hair. When Lilith pulled her impossibly closer, her slim, long hands touching her everywhere at once, a sob broke from the back of Zelda's throat. The feelings of pain and anger shredded off her like snake skin, and in their stead her chest was filled with overwhelming relief and overpowering love and devastating gratefulness.

Her Lilith was back. She had returned after insufferable pain and sorrow, but Zelda knew she would stay by her side now, so that together they could heal their wounds and rule over the forces of darkness and - most importantly, most exquisitely - find happiness.

_Happiness is a butterfly_

_We should catch it while dancing_

_I lose myself in the music, baby_

_Every day is a lullaby._


End file.
